


Zenyatta Takes His Throne

by magickus



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Face-Sitting, M/M, Oral Sex, Robot Sex, Service Top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 06:27:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14074914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magickus/pseuds/magickus
Summary: Genji loves to worship him after all.





	Zenyatta Takes His Throne

**Author's Note:**

> i wasnt gonna upload this but someone on the genyatta discord challenged me and im not a coward so here we are

Zenyatta, despite being made entirely of metal, is easy to manhandle. Genji’s hands grip tight at small hips, the tips of his fingers dipping just-so between seams to brush against delicate wiring, butterfly-thin. Zenyatta twitches and goes even more pliant, if possible. Genji lays back against the futon and his grip moves down with him, clutching at Zenyatta’s rear. Genji maneuvers him forward. Zenyatta takes his seat, waifish thighs tucking around Genji’s head like a meticulously carved picture frame.

“Master, let me,” he whispers. His breath is hot and fogs up the smooth chrome of Zenyatta’s thighs. He arches up, imploring, searching for that precious center. Zenyatta sinks down and meets him halfway.

Their moans mingle in the fevered air, Zenyatta’s in pleasure and Genji’s in rapture as his mouth seeks out Zenyatta’s pussy. The omnic is dripping wet already. His tongue slides slow between perfect, swollen lips, pointed tip dragging against soaked folds. Zenyatta grunts and slides a hand into Genji’s hair. “G-Genji I--” he begins. Genji decides that Zenyatta really should  _ not _ be coherent. An expert flick of his tongue against Zenyatta’s clit gets the job done and the omnic’s voice fades into incoherent static.

Zenyatta loses himself. Genji is happy to lead him, lips closing around a pulsing node and sucking. His grip drops to Zenyatta’s thighs, pressed tight against the sides of his head. Zenyatta’s hips jerk forward and hydraulics his in his ears. Zenyatta’s hands tighten in his hair-- always just shy of painful, the way Zenyatta knows he likes-- and keep his head still as he rolls his hips, languid and fluid against the flat of Genji’s greedy tongue. His moans are euphonious; high, lilting noises, exhalations of steam that sound almost like gasps. Powerful pistons work beneath Genji’s fingers as Zenyatta raises and lowers himself onto the point of Genji’s tongue, valve tight and hot, fucking himself on his student’s mouth, and it’s bliss. Genji’s vision fogs and his cock aches between his legs. He ignores it, drowns in Zenyatta’s taste, his sounds-- his everything.

A burst of static charges against Genji’s lips, tingling beneath skin. Zenyatta’s limbs lock tight, a strangled cry wrenched from his vocals, voice wrecked. His overload hits in the next instant. metallic spine bowing forwards, grip tight enough to rip a few strands of hair free as he hunches forward and clutches at his student like a precious lifeline in a tumultuous storm. Genji’s fingers pet soothingly along his tense thighs to ground him.

Zenyatta collapses onto the futon. Lingering pulses of charge dance through his frame, making him twitch and shiver. “Beautiful,” Genji praises, and Zenyatta masks his bashfulness by promptly reaching between Genji’s legs until he can’t think either.


End file.
